Worthlessness or Perfection
by Elven Warrior Princess
Summary: They say 'from the mouths of babes.' Can the words of a strange Elfling change the life of a certain Elf, or will he continue to roam Middle-Earth in shadows and self-loathing?


Disclaimer: All works of Tolkien are copyrighted. I hold no claim to any of his works, only the plot and any unknown characters.

A/N: This little story is dedicated to anyone who felt any sort of worthlessness or low self-esteem. Recently I was undone, albeit temporarily, by a few spoken words. Don't let anyone get any of you down. Remember you are worth more than you realize and you are a treasure. Also, watch what you say, words can be more dangerous than any weapon ever created. That said, I know I haven't written in ages and what better way to get into writing again than with something small and simple. I really hope this is enjoyed by any reader that happens to stumble across this.

Warning: This is very AU.

**Worthlessness or Perfection**

Explosion of burning light, that is what he saw every time he closed his eyes. He still felt the searing heat kiss across the surface of his skin. The memories, oh the memories, became his constant and only companions.

The once fair Elf could not recall how it began; in one moment he was down in the cellar where some of the alchoholic beverages and other juices were kept , simply inspecting the supplies, making sure they were worthy of the ambassadors from Eregion. Elves did not possess the palate for ale and kept to their tastes of the finest wines, therefore the ale was kept for the courtesy of the visiting Edain. In the next moment, without warning, fire had erupted from one of the barrels; there was little time before the first explosion rocked the foundations of the stronghold.

He flew through the air and slammed into a rock wall. He had no time to feel dazed before the burning of his clothing kept him to his senses. It soon became complete chaos – Elves came running in to drag him from the small cellar and attempted to douse the fire after the fourth explosion.

There was repetetive screaming in his ears as he rolled on the ground. Miluion, the head-healer sprinted towards the struggling Elf and patted him down with thick blankets. Once the fire was out, the poor Elf lost all conciousness.

The said Elf was brought back to the present by a shudder. He did not recall anything from then, but he remembered that one of the other Elves investigated the cause of the explosions and could only conclude that one of the the barrels of ale or mead must have caught alight.

Since then only the ever faithful Miluion came to see him and nursed him back to health, although he was told that he was forever going to carry his terrible scars.

With a curse he covered most of his face and put on clothes that showed as little of his skin as possible and left his hiding place. He was so very tired of being stared at with different expressions, varying from pity to fearful and horrified.

At first he tried walking amongst his fellow Elves and live a normal life, but that soon became an impossibility, especially since no one really knew how to approach him. How long ago was it that he was considered one of the fairest? How long ago was it that Ellyth fell at his feet and Ellyn envied him? Now he was nothing but a joke, a mockery of his former self! Is this what an Elf felt like just before he was completely transformed into a hideous Orc.

He tried avoiding as many Elves as he could, but unfortunately he could not avoid all of them. What made it worse was that some of these Elves were his closest friends. He had almost forgotten what it was like having a close compion. Miluion still came to check up on him from time to time, but he felt that that was more out of obligation than anything else.

His world became dark, except for the flames that were imprinted in the back of his eyelids. He became introverted and lived far away deep in the forest. He never had much trouble with any fell creatures, probably because even they feared his hideous visage.

Once again he became lost in his thoughts. This time he was questioning himself on why he still carried on living? Why does he not just end it? Perhaps he was afraid that even the Vala would never accept him for his cowardice and ugliness. He was no longer worthy to live in Valinor or come face to face with Manwë.

His blue eyes clouded over with thought and despair. He was unaware of his surroundings and nearly walked into an Elfling who was staring up at him. He immediately backed off and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, hoping to hide himself from those gazing eyes.

The Elfing stared a little while longer before giving him a bright smile and took hold of his hand and led him on while skipping all the way. The Elf didn't know what to make of this sudden change of events or this curious Elfling with the bright smile and sparkly eyes.

"Wait! What's going on? Where are you taking me?" He asked in a hoarse, neglected voice, making him even sound like a despicable creature, trying to get some clue as to what she was planning. Unfortunately the only response he received was giggling and the bouncing of soft curls.

He finally got his answer when he was led to a narrow river that branched off from Anduin. The space was wide open with plenty of soft grass and flowers of just about every colour. It had been many centuries and maybe even millenia since he was last here and the scene took his breath away.

The Elfling released his larger hand and skipped over towards the flowers and began picking them while humming a merry little tune. It was not long before she began singing. The older Elf listened to the words. It was certainly not the best of singing he's ever heard but the voice was still very young. Despite that it touched something deep inside of him and he began thinking of his own childhood. He sat down on the ground and hunched over his crossed legs while playing with a blade of grass. He became nostalgic and even more bitter. Many times over the millenia, before stepping through the door to his beaten-down cabin, he would shake his fist at the outside world and dared anyone to openly mock him. Yet here he was with this strange creature and he couldn't quite make out what her intentions were.

She stood up straight and looked back at him. She walked back to him and placed the flowers she gathered into his lap with great care.

"What's..." The elf cleared his throat to try and bring back some of the former smoothness to his voice, "...what's this?"

The Elfling stared with her grey eyes locked onto his blue ones, when all of a sudden she let out a loud guffaw as only a child could. The Elf looked around, trying to find the cause of her apparent amusement, but saw nothing seemed out of the ordinary other than this odd child.

Once she calmed herself, she knelt in front of him, still grinning, "They're flowers, silly! What did you think they are? Squirrels?" She burst out laughing again as though it was the funniest thing in the world.

The Elf looked slightly annoyed, "I know what they are! I'm not a simpleton!" He snapped. He had not much tolerance for anything since going into hiding and he'd be damned if he allowed some upstart Elf-child to make a mockery of him.

The Elfling did not seem fazed in the least bit when she wiped her eyes, "Then why did you ask?" She asked as she tilted her head to the side. This Elf did not make much sense to her but she liked him.

"What I meant was why are you placing them in my lap and what am I supposed to do with them?" He was still frowning but this time he was fingering a velvety petal between gloved fingers.

"You looked like you needed to cheer up and flowers always cheer me and my nana up. They're yours." She said proudly, feeling she was doing the right thing.

The older Elf became speechless, so the Elfling carried on speaking, "My name is Tegaladwen, but my ada calls me Vanya because he says I'm the most beautiful maiden in all of Middle-Earth, right next to nana!" She puffed out her small chest with pride. She straightened her posture and looked straight into his eyes, "What is your name?"

The Elf looked shocked for an instant, not sure how to answer. Did he even still have a name? He answered as truthfully as he could, "I am known by many names: Thaurer, Feuyaer, Gayaer,..." His voice began to shake with both rage and sorrow, "...Gorgaer, Saurar!"

The little Elfling looked so sad as she placed her tiny hand over his clenched fist, "What's your real name? The one your ada and nana gave you."

His eyes took on a distant look. Whether it was from looking back into the distant past or from trying to remember if he had any parents. There was a faint smile on his face when he remembered being in his mother's lap and hearing her whisper a name in such a gentle tone, "Th...Thranduil." The name caught in his throat – it had such a foreign feel on his tongue. It came out barely more than a whisper.

Tegaladwen smiled, "Such a beautiful name! It sounds very familiar though."

"I should think it does since it's whispered in just about every corner of Greenwood and it's normally said in fear or loathing, in _pity_." He spat out the last word.

"How come?"

"Child, is your eyesight defected? Take a good look at me! I have been disfigured! Made into something that is despised by all!" He flung his arms into the air and glared at the sky.

Tegaladwen crawled closer to him and got into his personal space. This made him feel more than a little uncomfortable, not to mention that he was still panting from his outburst. She placed her hand on one of his legs and used it to push herself closer to his masked face, "I don't." She simply stated.

Thranduil was now perplexed, "What?" He asked with a raised brow.

"I don't despise you. I like you."

"You don't know me."

"So? How can someone that looks so sad be bad. I think you're good; I like good people." She smiled as she leaned against him.

Thranduil immediately worked on dispatching her from his person, "You are too kind," He said in a dry voice, "but I am not too keen on anybody touching me."

"Why? You look like you need a friend. I want to be your friend. You are _my_ friend."

"Child, perhaps you don't fully understand, therefore I will explain this in simpler terms so that you might comprehend the situation. Long ago there was fire. No. Not just a fire. An exploding fire. This exploding fire blew up and burned everything in its path, including yours truly – leaving me severely scarred for life! Certainly, the pain was gone eventually, as were the wounds left from the exploding barrel, but alas, no amount of treatment could take away the physical reminder of that day. To this day I'm left looking like I do, I have become someone you only see in nightmares."

"I still don't know why that means we can't be friends."

Thranduil gave a frustrated sigh and stood up, "Because you should be keeping a safe distance from me! Elflings are warned by their ever-wise parents to stay away from the tragic freak! His diabolical plan is to eat little children and create ornaments from..." he stopped when he realized what he was about to say, "...never mind. My point is that your parents probably warned you about me."

"I don't believe any of those things. Did you know that you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen?"

Thranduil stopped his pacing and silent cursing, "You...you're...did you just say what I thought you did?"

She gave him a cheeky grin, "It depends on what you think you heard."

The Elf huffed as he sat back down in front of Tegaladwen, "You never told me why you dragged me all the way here. Did it never occur to you that I have things that need to be done?"

Tegaladwen gripped his one hand, as though afraid he might decide to leave, "No real reason. You looked really sad, almost like you wanted to cry. That's why I wanted to show you this place and what the flowers are for."

Thranduil gavea dark chuckle, "So every Elf you come across that happens to look a little upset is stopped by you, a random female Elfling, and dragged against their will, I might add, to some random place in order to entertain said little Elfling?"

The Elfling shook her head in a dramatic way, "No silly, there wouldn't be enough flowers then."

A snort of laughter or something like that escaped Thranduil and he couldn't help being amused, "What exactly do you intend to do with me then?"

"I already told you. I want to be your new friend and to try and make you feel better."

"You do realize that would be impossible, ch..."

"I have a name, you know, and it's not 'child!'" Sheinterrupted with a pout and a frown.

"Alright! Tegaladwen! As I was saying, I will never feel better ever again! It just won't ever happen!" He began to look at her with suspicion, "Why do you care so much anyway?"

"Because I do."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I'm no liar! If I fibbed my parents will give me a spanking!" She exclaimed with great conviction.

Thranduil smirked, "Ah! So false tales are not worth such terrible consequences!"

Tegaladwen shook her head, "No, and it is not nice to say things that are not true."

"Then I take it you were telling the truth when you said that my eyes are...'beautiful'...was it?"

"Yes, I meant it."

They sat in awkward silence for a while, until Tegaladwen began humming the same tune again. Thranduil tried to ignore her and not be drawn into the tune. When the song came to an end she slowly and carefully raised her hand to his face. When he realized what she was doing he pulled away, "What do you think you're doing?"

"I...I only...I..."

"You wanted to see what I really look like! Didn't you? Didn't you? Just to be clear, I am not here to sate some naíve Elfling's curiousity! Or did your parents send you to find out what's hidden underneath all this cloth?" Thranduil gritted his teeth as he stood. His cloak swirled with every angry movement.

Tegaladwen then quickly stood as well, "Wait! Please don't go...I'm sorry!" She began to sniffle, "You see, I don't have very many friends and when I saw you, you looked as lonely as I am. I only wanted to show you that even without your mask I will still be your friend."

Thranduil grimaced and lowered his head, "You could have asked." He muttered barely above a whisper.

"I know and I'm sorry. I knew you would say 'no'."

He looked back at her over his shoulder, "Perhaps I would have, but..." Thranduil sighed, "...perhaps I've utterly lost my mind...alright, but I will not be blamed for you sreaming and fleeing, nor will I be held responsible for your nightmares. To be fair, I will give you ample warning: I probably look the closest thing to an Orc while still staying an Elf."

Tegaladwen took hold of his cloak and led him to the river-bank. She smiled while wiping away her tears. Slowly they sat down and even slower she raised her tiny hand. Suddenly, Thranduil gently grabbed her wrist, "Wait! Are you absolutely sure this is what you want to do? Trust me when I say I'm probably the ugliest being you'll ever see." Truth be told, he was more concerned about how he would react should she run away in fear. He could not stand to be rejected by the only Elf that has ever truly reached out to him in such a long time.

The Elfling assured him that she was ready to look at his bare face, to show that she didn't care what he looked like.

Everything seemed to have grown very silent. Even the birds sounded hushed. The only real sound he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. With coldness that settled in the back of his neck he watched her hand coming into contact with the soft material. He quickly shut his eyes tight. Maybe he was a coward, but seeing the horror on the youthful face of his only friend would most likely break him. Tears were already leaking down past his clenched eyelids.

All Thranduil could do now was wait. Wait for the screaming. Wait for the frightened sobs. For the mocking laughter and the taunting. Even for the gasp. Still silence. Did the child...erm...Tegaladwen leave in silence?

Hesitantly he opened one eye and she was still sitting in front of him but with one of her bright smiles lighting her face. It was not a smile of mockery, but of fondess and innocence.

"There. Now was that so hard?" She asked in a motherly tone, as though she was speaking to any other normal Elf. What is 'normal' any way?

Thranduil could feel the soft breeze on his exposed skin and it felt so good. The entire left side of his face was badly scarred, his left ear looked as though it was melted and very mishapen. His hair on that side had grown white strands. The right side was also burnt, but not as badly. Both his eyes narrowly escaped permanent damage. The rest of his body was also burnt all the way down, some places worse than others. His shame grew ten-fold, "Why aren't you reacting the same way everybody else does?"

"Those that treat you horribly should be shunned. They're the real monsters!" She placed the palm of her hand on his cheek and wiped away his flowing tears, "They don't see what I see."

"And what...what is that you see?" He asked around the lump in his throat.

"I see the most beautiful being that ever walked in Middle-Earth."

Thranduil laughed around his tears, "Now I am certain you have poor vision, which is odd for any Elf, but seemingly proven true that an Elf can, in fact, develop poor eyesight. Besides I think that title is already taken by one who is also called Vanya."

Tegaladwen giggled, "We can share it! Thranduil, can I show you something? The reason why I also don't have friends."

Thranduil's eyes softened even further, "Of course. If you like."

The Elfling raised her right sleeve, "I had an accident with one of my ada's saws. He is a wood-cutter and carver. I was pretending to cut wood like my ada when the saw slipped. They did warn me to stay away from the sharp tools, so now I'm punished for not listening to them."

Very tenderly Thranduil held her arm, or what was left of it, in his hands. This poor, innocent Elfling had no right hand. Fresh tears rolled down his deformed cheeks, but this time they were shed in compassion, "How long ago did this happen?"

Tegaladwen shrugged, "About five years ago. I've been learning to do everything with my wrong hand."

"Does it still hurt?"

"Sometimes, especially during Winter Solstice. When it first happened it felt like my hand was still there and it was always in awful pain. That's when nana used to rub where my hand used to be and it actually worked. That still happens, but not very often.* And yours? Do they still hurt?" She asked while tracing a scar on one of his hands.

"Not as much as they used to. Only now and then there would be a dull ache, also when the air is nippy."

Suddenly Tegaladwen leaned into him again and Thranduil, surprising himself, actually pulled her closer and placed her on his lap. They sat like that till the sun began to sink, basking in the glow of each other's warmth and sudden friendship. Many years may pass but neither of them would forget those few hours when they discovered companionship in the most unlikely of places and where they both found worth and acceptance.

Ж

The End

**Translations**

Thaurer: Abominable one

Feuyaer: Disgusting one

Gayaer: Dreaded one

Gorgaer: Fearful one

Saurar: Foul one

Final Note: Yes, this is definitely an odd mixture of Phantom of the Opera and The Hunchback with Thranduil thrown into the mix. This is not an attempt on stealing ideas, this is just a vent and something very different from my usual work. Did anyone notice that Miluion had returned? In case you were wondering he was the healer in my very first fic: Elfling Mischief. I had to keep him around. I hope readers enjoyed this, it was not easy to write, but I enjoyed every second of it and I really hope that you will enjoy reading it just as much. Please let me know if I should continue with this one or leave it as is or what you think and if you have any questions

*In case you were wondering, what Tegaladwen was describing is what is commonly known as phantom pain, something that is common with amputated limps. My grandmother suffered immensly with that pain and it really helped if someone rubbed her just below the stump without actually touching the limb.


End file.
